Chapter 5: Sounds Through the Wall

Ethan had always been a light sleeper. A shifting shadow, a distant siren, even the creak of an old pipe was enough to stir him awake. It wasn’t a problem back in his childhood home, where the silence stretched uninterrupted through the night. But here, in this cramped apartment, silence was a luxury he didn’t have.

Tonight, the noises were different.

He lay in bed, his thin blanket half-draped over his chest, eyes locked on the ceiling. His room was dark, save for the faint glow from the streetlamp outside, casting long shadows across the floor. It had been an exhausting day—between unpacking and the disastrous encounter with Sienna earlier, his brain should have been too fried to overthink.

But then the sounds started.

At first, it was just laughter—soft, lilting, feminine. Her voice. Sienna’s. Muffled through the too-thin walls, playful and teasing. The sound slithered into his ears, wrapping around his thoughts like smoke.

Then came a man’s voice. Deep, smooth, unfamiliar.

Ethan’s fingers curled into the sheets.

He turned onto his side, facing the wall that separated their apartments. The voices were clearer now, though still just out of reach of full comprehension. He caught the cadence of her words, the way she purred responses between light giggles. The way the man responded—low, amused, like he was enjoying a private joke.

Ethan clenched his jaw, telling himself it was none of his business. He barely knew her. She had probably brought over a friend. A boyfriend. So what? It wasn’t like he—

A moan.

His body stiffened.

It was soft at first, almost like a hum. Then it came again, clearer, unmistakable. A sound so intimate, so visceral that it sent heat crawling up Ethan’s neck. He swallowed, his pulse picking up as he sat up in bed, heart pounding in his ears.

The laughter had faded. Now, there were only noises—soft gasps, the rustling of sheets, the creak of a mattress.

Oh.

Ethan felt his face burn. He should stop listening. He needed to stop listening. This was private. Personal. He was invading something intimate just by being aware of it. And yet, the sounds continued, slipping through the cracks, impossible to ignore.

Another moan—longer this time, breathy and unrestrained.

Sienna.

Ethan’s throat tightened. He shifted in his bed, his skin prickling with heat. It wasn’t like he was innocent—he’d heard things before, seen things before—but this was different. This was her. And she was so close.

The wall was thin. If he reached out, he could almost imagine his fingertips brushing against the barrier that separated them. Just a few inches of drywall, and beyond it, Sienna was… with someone.

There was a deep, masculine murmur—indistinct words, spoken against skin. Then a sharp gasp, a whisper of laughter from her, then more movement. The rhythm changed, a new cadence in the air, an undeniable heat behind it.

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut. Don’t listen. Stop listening.

But he couldn’t.

His body felt taut, like a wire stretched too thin. His fingers twitched against the sheets. Every sound that drifted through the walls painted a picture in his head, one that made his chest tighten and his breath grow unsteady.

Then, in the midst of it all—

“Ethan.”

His eyes snapped open.

For a second, he thought he had imagined it. Maybe his name had simply been part of some fragmented, half-conscious thought. But then he heard it again. Softer, teasing, like a breath against his skin.

“Ethan.”

His heart stopped.

It wasn’t loud, wasn’t even fully clear. But it was unmistakable.

She was saying his name.

Ethan’s pulse thundered in his ears. He sat up completely now, hands gripping the sheets, breath coming in short, uneven pulls. His mind was a mess of contradictions, of thoughts he shouldn’t be having.

Had she seen his light still on? Did she know he was awake? Was this just a coincidence, a trick of his imagination?

Or… had she done it on purpose?

Another moan, this one exaggerated, drawn out, filled with a kind of knowing.

His stomach twisted.

Sienna was playing with him.

Ethan exhaled sharply, forcing himself to move. He ripped the sheets off his body and stood, his breath ragged as he ran a hand through his hair. He needed air. He needed to get out of this apartment before he lost his mind.

But as he reached for his door, the sounds on the other side of the wall reached their peak—a final, breathless cry of pleasure, a deep chuckle from the man, the shift of bodies settling into silence.

Ethan’s fingers tightened around the doorknob.

For the first time since moving here, he realized something dangerous.

Sienna wasn’t just tempting.

She was deadly.